Reaching for Unlimited Skies
by DarkLightShades
Summary: Twilight of the Spirits The Lord of the Black Abyss has been defeated, but Darc still has his mission to unite the Deimos while Kharg must try and seal the rifts between human settlements during the world's greatest upheaval. Discontinued
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** This was a project I wanted to keep under wraps until it was a little closer to being finished but since I've been struggling with it for a few years now and it isn't any closer to done there's no point. This fic was concocted shortly after finishing Twilight of the Spirits, not knowing there was going to be a sequel (and I still haven't played it), and basically continues from the end of the game. I have no intention of steering it towards what the sequel intended, so you can consider it an AU.  
I'm still in love with the fic and the fandom, I just can't work with it as well these days. ::sigh:: 

**Disclaimer**: I make no claims to either the characters or the series of Arc the Lad in this chapter or any hereafter. I just have fun with them from time to time. Also, I make no money from publishing this little piece of fiction.

**Prologue – The End of the World as we know it is not really the End. **

_Cragh Island_

The sun was just beginning to peek over the watery horizon before the last embers of the fire finally died down. Wide-eyed villagers, who had celebrated so enthusiastically when the remnants of the floating castle had sunk into the sea, had finally succumbed to exhaustion and trudged back to their wooden huts for a few hours of sleep before the sun rose in earnest. The Slothians who shared the village had barely roused at all during the activity, only waking long enough to enjoy the offered food, and they had long since settled back into slumber.

The only ones still awake were the small group strangers who had washed up on the beach shortly after the castle had started to fall. Each kept a silent vigil over the dying fire made by the villagers, lost in their own thoughts and memories. Anywhere else, the strange scene would have been unthinkable, Human and Deimos sat side by side in an almost companionable manner. For this one night, the past had been forgotten in the face of an enemy, and they had emerged triumphant where they had been almost sure to fail.

Even if they had not been sitting by their worst enemies, each group would have been considered unusual by their respective races. Mercenaries sat shoulder to shoulder with princes, scientists to warriors. Drakyr, Lupine, Orcon and monster, each huddled in the cool morning air, wondering what was to come.

Tomorrow, this peace would be broken. The two groups would separate to do the best they could to help their respective species. The rest of the world was most likely in chaos now. The moment they Spirits had departed, they tiny blue stones that had provided energy for everything, from magic to kitchen stoves, had lost their power and turned to dust. There was no more power for the humans, no more magic for the Deimos. Their old way of life was gone forever.

Tomorrow, they would be enemies again. As soon as they left this island, the lines would be drawn once more, Humans on one side, Deimos on the other. Things would return to the way they had been for centuries, and sooner or later both groups would cross paths and have to clash once more.

But all that would happen tomorrow, so for this one night they could all pretend that tomorrow was still a long time off, and that the fighting was truly finished.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – The struggle to keep walking once the rest of the world has stopped.**

By the time the sun had ascended warm and bright overhead, there was only two people left at the blacked remains of the fire. Everyone else had wandered off in search of food or solitude, except for the two who had arguably the most on their minds.

Kharg was finally pulled from his heavy contemplation by the insistent growl of his stomach. It surprised him to realise it had been more than a day since he'd eaten something, and suddenly Maru's mad rush to get some breakfast seemed more understandable. He shakily climbed to his feet -his limbs stiffened from staying immobile so long- and brushed the sand from his clothes. He took a step towards the village before catching sight of the other being still on the beach.

Darc sat with almost perfect stillness on the opposite side of the fire, a distant look in his dark red eyes. He hadn't even noticed Kharg's movement, his thoughts focused totally inward. Kharg took this rare moment of tranquillity to observe his brother. It the relatively brief time Kharg had known him, Darc had never been completely at rest. He was always on edge, ready to fight, contemplating his next action. To see him quiet and thoughtful was an unusual event in itself.

Darc shifted, and Kharg stiffened, thinking the other had noticed his staring, but Darc simply lifted his clawed hand to rest lightly on his right arm, over the unusual birthmark they both shared. Kharg smiled wryly as he recognised the movement as one he often did himself. Whenever he was tense or worried he always found his hand straying towards the dark symbol on his own shoulder. Darc was probably totally oblivious to the fact that he was doing it now.

However, his mother had always told him that too much thought could poison your actions, preventing you from doing what your instincts told you were right and distracting you at a critical moment. It was one of her lessons he taken to heart most easily, as she had chided him on more than one occasion, and he smiled fondly in remembrance. It was time to move on, and he wasn't about to leave Darc behind. Approaching his brother he offered his hand and hung it in front of Darc's face. It took a few seconds, but eventually his twin glanced up, a confused look on his face.

"We'd better go get something to eat before the others finish it all," he said lightly, but inwardly he felt tense. With Lillia's help he had made some kind of peace with Darc the night before. Not a bond of brotherhood, or even friendship really, but peace nonetheless. The bond was there, but raw and new, and he half expected Darc to spurn his hand and stalk off, but after a moment the Deimos hybrid reached up and allowed Kharg to pull him to his feet.

"Fine," Darc replied, and unreadable look in his eyes as he searched Kharg's face for something undefinable. He absently smoothed out his skirt, and when he looked up again he looked more like how Kharg expected him to be, with an aura of restrained irritation beneath his curt manner.

"Let's go," Darc ordered curtly, turning to glide purposefully up the path back to the village with the deadly grace of a hunter. Kharg let out a breath; strangely glad the Darc was still more or less his usual grumpy self. A serene Darc was a disturbing Darc, and after the events of the last few days he was more than ready for things to return to normal.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Maru yelped and he deftly snatched two of the freshly roasted -but extremely hot- vegetables from the pile. Having been gruffly ordered away from the cooking fires by the women responsible for making breakfast for the tribe, he'd resorted to more cunning methods of acquiring food. He was hungry _now_, and wasn't about to wait the extra few minutes for the food to be properly dished up to satisfy his hunger.

Juggling his prizes with the skill of a circus performer, he carefully made his way back into the bushes to share the bounty with his partner in crime. Bebedora, who had simply looked on as he's taken the food, barely qualified as any kind of collaborator in his antics, but it was how he thought of her nonetheless.

"Here," he offered her one with a triumphant grin, "But watch out, they're hot." He blew on his burned fingers for emphasis before biting down on the food with relish. Bebedora merely looked at hers as if she wasn't sure what to do with it. Maru paused in mid-bite, looking concerned. "What's the matter? Don't you like it?"

"I've never eaten before," Bebedora told him, eyes fixed as always on the swirling colours of his soul. The sunny yellow of his enthusiasm had briefly dulled to the watery blue of distress before melting back in to its' previous colour.

"Oh," Maru absorbed that for a moment, "But that doesn't mean you can't, right?"

The monster blinked, a movement that would have been more obvious if he'd been able to see her eyes. "Right," she repeated slowly.

"So try it! It's good, I promise."

The dazzling lights of the emotions that came with those words were impossible to resist. Raising the unusual round food to her face she examined it with uncertainty. It was an emotion she was quickly becoming familiar with in her new life of freedom.

"You have to bite it," Maru prodded after a moment. "Like this," he demonstrated with his own, making sure she could see every movement clearly.

Carefully, she copied him. A strong savoury taste filled her mouth, and for a moment she lost track of what she was doing as the curious experience flooded her senses. It was almost as good as discovering a new emotion for herself, rather than reflecting those around her. Eventually she figured out how to swallow, and reality reasserted itself in the shape of Maru's expectant face.

"What do you think?"

She had to think about it, having never had to put her own feelings into words. It was so much easier to do it for other people. But the delicious taste still lingered in her mouth, and the mouthful had settled into a comforting knot of warmth in her belly. She felt a tendril of new emotion seem into her thoughts. It was light and warm and filling, much like what she had just consumed. It was… satisfaction.

"I like it," Bebedora replied.

Maru beamed at her, and his soul shone even brighter.

xXxXxXxXxXx

By the time Kharg and Darc finally arrived back at the village, breakfast was being served in earnest. Everyone had returned from whatever activity had occupied them that morning and eagerly gathered around the tantalising offerings of food.

The generous and overly maternal village women clucked gently over their bedraggled appearances and plates were piled high as most of the group were declared 'far too thin'. Even Delma tolerated this with a fair amount of politeness. Apparently, whatever grudges the two factions had against each other could wait until after they'd eaten.

Volk looked mournfully at the huge platter he'd been given. Apparently the Islanders were completely vegetarian, and being mostly carnivorous in nature the Lupine found the menu somewhat unsatisfying. Being far too tired to go and hunt down something suitable, he simply resigned himself to what he was given. Setting himself apart from the group so he could discreetly dispose of the worst parts into the bushes, he allowed his one good eye to roam over the strange pack of allies he'd found himself with.

Bebedora, under the patient tutelage of Maru, was attempting to try a little bit of everything, wanting to experience every new flavour she could. Much to the delight of the village women, her plate was piled almost twice as high as everyone else's. Conversely, Camellia had refused all but a small plate of fruit, claiming she needed to protect her lovely figure.

Both Delma and Paulette had forgone such womanly graces, and simply concentrated on assuaging their hunger as fast as possible. The one known as Kharg smiled at them amusedly, aiming a low comment at the pair that the Lupine didn't hear. He earned an identical set of glares that only made his smile wider. Lillia, who Volk personally considered to be more trouble than she was worth, had engaged one of the Islanders in conversation about something. Her gaze was serious, but the man she was talking to seemed in good humour about her questions. His alpha, Darc, sat on his own, frequently falling into deep thought before roughly pulling himself back to the present. Something heavy apparently weighed on his mind, and the blue furred Deimos made a note to ask him about it later.

He frowned, noticing two absences from the group, and carefully scanned the area again until he found them. Tatjana sat some distance from the hub of people around the serving trays, methodically picking at her meal as if it was of the utmost importance. She was obviously uncertain of her welcome with the others, having been the enemy of both at one point, and one of the most recent to join their cause.

Slightly harder to see was Ganz, who's clothing allowed him to blend in with the surrounding forest. Unknown to Tatjana, he stood watchfully nearby, keeping an eye on her. After a minute of observation Volk decided it wasn't because he expected her to run off, or because he didn't trust her. It was an attentive vigil, almost protective. Frowning, Ganz suddenly looked up to meet Volk's eye. Their stare held for a long moment before Ganz deliberately nodded his head in recognition before turning his gaze back on Tatjana.

Of all the humans, Volk felt a kind of kinship with Ganz. The large mercenary's view that if someone fought alongside you in battle they became your comrade, closely matched Volk's conception that if you helped the pack, you were as good as part of it. It was strange for one who had devoted his life to the destruction of the human race to realise they weren't so different after all.

Maru's light, piping voice caught his attention, "Hey, what's that?"

A ripple of interest passed through the group, and shading his eyes against the sun he glanced out to sea where Maru was pointing. An unidentifiable blob circled anxiously over where the floating castle had met its watery death. It took Volk a moment to recognise it for what it was, but as his eye adjusted to the glare he recognised the orange pelt just as it caught sight of the assembly in the village and started to race towards them.

"Oh no," he had time to mutter darkly before the flying blob was upon them.

With the force of a small sonic boom, the Pyron swooped into the clearing, sending most people diving for cover. It stopped right before it would have knocked Darc off his feet, the Deimos having leapt up moments before, and excitedly wrapped its' spindly arms around him, emitting a high keening noise from its' throat. Despite the fact that it was now only the size of a large Dog, the Pyron's arms seemed to have retained their original length, and as soon as it was satisfied that Darc was in one piece it eagerly reached some of them out to enfold the rest of the Deimos party.

Bebedora was lifted off her feet by its enthusiastic, one handed hug. Camellia playfully swatted away its' first attempts to do the same to her, but the smile on her face betrayed her. Volk, who had the most trouble with the beasts' bumpy flights, patiently allowed it to explore his fur for a moment before brushing it off. Its' thrilled keening was hard to resist. _I've finally found you_, it seemed to say, and even Delma's "Keep your hands to yourself, Buster!" lacked its usual venom.

"Easy, easy," Darc soothed it, carefully disengaging himself from its spidery arms. Volk caught the hint of an almost smile on his Alpha's face as Darc ran his fingers through the creatures fiery fur. Eventually it calmed down enough to let them go, and slowly everyone else came out of hiding.

"Is it attacking?" Maru called from behind a tree, bow and arrow at the ready.

The humans kept one hand on their weapons as they crept forward. Ganz stood strategically between the Pyron and Tatjana as the blonde women fingered the trigger of her pistol.

"It's alright everyone," Camellia trilled, spreading her arms in what she hoped was a friendly gesture. "It won't hurt you."

"Unless we tell it to," Delma muttered, but the comment went unheard by most.

"What is it?" Paulette asked, torn between tying her weapon back to her belt and leaving it in her hand.

Suddenly aware that Darc's party weren't the only ones in the vicinity, the Pyron morphed to the size of a cat and it went about the business of carefully investigating everyone with its' nose. Its smaller size seemed to reassure most of them, and they slowly returned to their previous positions, picking up dropped plates and scattered food as they went.

"It won't hurt you Maru," Bebedora reassured the prince as the now miniature Pyron came to inspect him.

Its rounded nose carefully recorded his scent, and he stiffened as it snuffled along his bare neck. "It tickles," he informed everyone, patting its fur tentatively before allowing it to move on.

"So what is it?" Paulette repeated, eyeing the Pyron warily. It had been entranced by her long braid, swing it back and forth much to her discomfort before pouncing on its' next victim.

"A Pyron," Camellia explained, adjusting her dress that had been ruffled by the creatures greeting. "It lets us travel from one continent to another."

"_You_ ride _that_?" Tatjana looked unconvinced. "But it's so small."

"We get by." Darc didn't illuminate any further. Having made the acquaintance of everyone nearby, the Pyron settled itself by his feet and cooed contentedly.

"Speaking of which, how are we getting off this island?" Paulette inquired.

"Got it covered," Kharg said. "The Big Owl is parked on the east side of the island," he pulled out the remote control they used to direct the airship remotely, "As soon as we got here I guided it to us."

"I imagine with no more spirit stones it won't have much power left," Ganz spoke up. "It'll probably only be able to make one more flight, so we'd better agree on where we want to go."

Some of their levity faded at the comment, but it had to happen eventually. Sooner or later they would have to leave the magic of this island behind and return to the troubles that would no doubt be waiting for them.

"Kharg?" Paulette's voice had been soft but somehow her tone had captured their attention. Everyone, Human and Deimos turned to her expectantly.

The redhead's gaze was steady as she regarded her childhood friend. "I told you I'd follow wherever you decided to lead. Where do you want to go?"

It was the question that had plagued the brown haired boy all night, and creases reappeared in his brow as he pondered it once more. On one hand, he was tired. Tired of carrying the responsibility for the whole world on his shoulders. What he wanted to do was return to the comforting surroundings of Yewbell, taking up the mantle of the Defence Corps Commander. Returning his life to how things were before this all began, that would be easiest.

Things, however, were not that simple. The horrified looks of the faces of the townsfolk when the wings had sprouted from his back, his cold and lonely house, so empty without his mothers' presence.

Nafia's grave.

That was what would greet him back in Yewbell. Things would never be how they were before, even with the townspeople's forgiveness. As much as he didn't want to, he had to let go of that dream.

"Cathena," Kharg replied at length. "Without power we need the kind of unity that the World Alliance can provide."

"Or what's left of it," said Ganz, "Didn't Darkham destroy it?"

"Even so, we should be there to help the survivors and restore order. We'll need the help of the councillors to solve the energy problem." He looked around seriously, "But you don't need to feel obligated to go with me. I only asked you to help me stop the Divine Ruler. If you want to go your separate ways, that's fine."

Maru gaped, "Are you kidding? We can't split up now, the world isn't saved yet!"

"I still owe you one," Tatjana confirmed. "And I owe it to the people of Cathena for the trouble Dilzweld caused."

Ganz straightened his massive frame, "I could not return to the forest knowing that I could be doing something to help."

Lastly, Kharg locked eyes with Paulette. She nodded once, and despite himself he felt a smile pulling at his mouth, "I guess it's settled then." He glanced over at Darc, who had fallen into thought again. Slowly, everyone followed suit until the Deimos leader was the centre of attention.

"It's been too long since we've been back at Orcoth," Darc began. "And the Drakyr should also be informed of what's going on." He rose to his feet to gauge the reactions of his followers, "I still plan to save the Deimos, and if that means uniting them under one banner in these dark times then so be it. Are you still with me?"

Moved, Volk hefted his great axe and offered it to Darc, bowing his head. "My Alpha," he murmured respectfully. "I shall be glad to keep fighting at your side."

"Count me in," Delma affirmed, glad to have a purpose once more.

"Master Darc, it would be my pleasure to aid you goals," Camellia added demurely, smoothing her gown.

There was a moment of silence as all eyes turned towards Bebedora. The childlike monster looked between Darc and Maru, obviously unsure.

"It's okay if you want to go with them Bebedora," said Maru, though it obviously cost him. "I'm sure we'll meet up again later."

Although it was hard to tell as her hat shielded most of her face, Bebedora's features softened in gratitude. "Thank you Maru," she replied quietly, trotting over to join Darc. Though most of them tried to hide it, the sweetness of the scene had touched even the hardest of hearts present.

"What about you Lillia?" Kharg asked suddenly, realising that he'd almost forgotten the quiet girl who'd been the catalyst of these strange events.

Since last night, Lillia had held herself separate from the two groups, not wanting to interfere in their own ways of making peace with each other. There was another reason also; when the time came it would make it easier to say goodbye.

Lillia took in a deep breath, trying to keep her resolve, "I've decided to stay here." There was a murmur of surprise at her response. "I've lived my whole life on the run," she continued quietly, a note of sadness in her voice. "I think…even for only a little while…I'd like to live a normal life. To experience what it means to live in peace."

She gestured to the smiling man she had been talking to earlier, "The Villagers have already told me it's alright, and I feel I can help make up for leading the Dilzweld army here before. I feel like I belong here and…I want to stay." There was a long pause as her statement sank in.

"It's your decision," Kharg said finally. Somehow, he'd expected her to come with them, but her desire wasn't unreasonable. After all, he was weary of running and fighting after only a few weeks of it. She'd been doing it her entire life.

Darc didn't say anything, but he too seemed disappointed.

Lillia smiled and attempted to lighten the mood, "Besides, I'm not going anywhere." She held one of Kharg's hands in her own, then gently reached out and took one of Darc's as well. "You can always come back and visit me. You will, right?"

"Of course," Kharg reassured her.

"Sure," Darc said, looking slightly more positive.

Delma tapped him on the shoulder, breaking the spell. "We should go now if we want to get to Drakyrnia before noon," they had all discovered exactly how unpleasant it could be to ride the Pyron under the unforgiving midday sun.

Darc nodded, locking eyes with Lillia and Kharg once more before moving off to join his comrades. Nothing needed to be said. Once off this island, they would be potential enemies again, that was just the way things were.

The Deimos had to return to the beach to give the Pyron enough room to grow enough carry them. Minutes later the humans and Slothians caught of a giant orange shape lift into the sky and zip off towards Ragnoth.

"There they go," Lillia said, sounding sad. Even if she'd only known these people for a few weeks, they were still the best friends she'd ever had. Soon they'd all leave, but that was probably for the best. She'd caused them enough trouble.

"We should go too," Kharg said, loud enough to catch everyone's attention. The villagers had been thanked for their hospitality, even though they would accept nothing in return. Now all was left was to say goodbye to Lillia.

Impulsively, she hugged him. "Thank-you," she whispered, surprising herself with the tears that threatened to fall. She'd spent so much of her life leaving things behind, now it was others who were leaving her.

Pulling back, she bowed her head to everyone else. "Come back anytime, you'll always be welcome here."

It took all her willpower to stay strong while they each said their goodbyes to her. She kept the smile on her face until they were well out of sight before she let it drop. _Have I done the right thing_? She wondered and she stared at the trail they had taken to head to the Big Owl. It felt like she was abandoning them, but she knew her own limitations. She didn't want to run anymore, and she somehow felt more at home on Cragh Island than any of the other places she had lived over the years.

_Spirits, wish them luck_, she prayed after them. _They'll need it._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Gone but not forgotten, and thus not really gone at all.**

Volk, to say the least, was not pleased. His dark coat of blue fur, suitable for all the cold and unfavorable climates the world had to offer, was uncomfortably warm as the sun reached its zenith The Pyron's flight was even more bumpy than usual as bopped happily up and down, expressing its joy to have found the Deimos again. As such he was forced to cling much closer to the Pyron's fur then usual -almost down on his stomach- which only served to overheat him more. His legs had begun to stiffen from desperately gripping to the orange creatures' wide back, and having looked out at nothing but ocean for the last two hours he was thoroughly sick of the scenery.

No, Volk was not pleased at all.

It didn't help that nobody felt like talking. The most interesting piece of conversation had been a short exchange between Delma and Bebedora as they'd made their way out of the village.

"The soothing green of relief streaked with pale grey lines of resentment," the small monster reported quietly so only Delma and Volk, who had been walking a short distance in front of them, heard. "You're glad she decided to stay, aren't you?"

Volk had dearly wished to turn and see the expression on the Orcon girls' face, but he had kept going, pretending not to hear.

"So what if I am?" Delma hissed back, not even pretending to misunderstand Bebedora's meaning. "She brought us nothing but trouble."

Bebedora had paused at that, thinking. "Paulette was glad she decided to stay too." Volk had found that fact interesting, and methodically stored it away for further use. He'd strained his ears to hear more, but that had been the last talk for quite some time, and the ride on the Pyron had been a silent one.

Darc, with his supernatural balance that Volk envied at times like this, was calmly sitting cross-legged as if he had no fear of falling off. Smouldering red eyes stared intently ahead, and his brow furrowed in concentration the way it always did when he was planning something. Delma was lying down, much as he was, but to his surprise she appeared to be completely asleep. He almost wished the Pyron had to perform an abrupt stop just to see if she would fall off. Bebedora swayed hypnotically back and forth, muttering to herself about what she was seeing in each of their respective souls at the moment. It seemed to calm her.

Only Camellia seemed to be having the same trouble he was. The Sage looked decidedly stressed as she tried to hold on as tightly as possible without rumpling her dress. She wasn't succeeding very well, and each time the Pyron made a particularly rapid hop she would gasp and clench its fur with a death grip.

She caught his eye and smiled grimly, "I do hope this is going to be over soon."

"Ragnoth is only a few minutes away," Darc told her softly, eyes still fixed straight ahead.

Volk followed his gaze but saw nothing but ocean. His sense of smell and hearing might have been slightly superior to Darc's, but his eyes were more attuned to short distances in heavy forest. However, as promised, they arrived on land shortly afterwards, and the Lupine was relieved to have his feet on solid ground. Camellia followed shortly after him, landing somewhat ungracefully in a heap as she slid off the Pyron's back.

"Are you ready?" Darc asked the group as Camellia shakily picked herself up and Delma rubbed the last traces of sleep from her eyes. At their brief assent, he inclined his head to the north, where the home of the Drakyr was hidden amid the barren mountains of Ragnoth.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Drakyrnia was a surprising flurry of activity. As the group made their way up the winding trail they caught sight of a gathering crowd creating enough noise to send worrying vibrations through the rocky outcrop the town was perched on. The narrow width of the path meant that some of the Drakyr were forced to hover nearby in order to be close enough to hear what was going on in the heart of the crowd.

Above the shouting, they could faintly hear Williwo calling for order. "Please everyone, calm down! I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation…" Whatever else he was saying was swallowed up by the roar of the mob.

Delma nudged Darc with her elbow, "Look Darc, aren't there more Drakyr here than there was before?"

"It looks like it," Darc mused, briefly counting the assembled Deimos. His hand slid to his sword, just in case the Drakyr didn't want to respond to his authority. Squaring his shoulders, Darc marched forward, knowing the others would be right behind him. As soon as he drew close, the back members of the assembly caught sight of him and sent word through the crowd.

"Look, it's Darc!"

"He's finally returned."

"Maybe he knows what's going on…"

It might have been the fierce look in his eyes, or perhaps the armed and ready warriors at his back, but for whatever reason the Drakyr slowly quietened down. Like a parting sea, they moved quickly out of his way as he made his way towards Williwo. Darc was somewhat pleased to see respect in the eyes of those who would meet his gaze; a far cry from what he had come to expect as Geedo's slave.

Williwo bowed deferentially as they came close, his expression one of both weariness and happiness. "Darc," he greeted, "It is good that you have returned. Look." He gestured to the large crowd, a genuine grin on his face, "The ones who left with Droguza have returned. We are finally a formidable tribe again."

The old Darkyr's expression darkened, "But that is not all. All our spirit stones have lost their power. If the humans were to attack now, we would be defenceless."

"I don't think you have to worry about the humans just yet," Darc responded. Ignoring Williwo's look of confusion, he turned to address the now silent crowd.

"Peoples of Drakyrnia," he stated, his voice carrying easily in the crisp mountain air. "Times of hardship lay ahead for us. As you know, your spirit stones have lost their power. But that is not the true extent of it," he paused, making sure he had everyone's full attention. "The Lord of the Black Abyss has been defeated." A wave of sound flowed over the crowd as they all expressed their surprise and disbelief. Darc held up a hand and the noise died down again.

"The Lord of the Black Abyss has been defeated," he repeated, "And the Spirits have completely departed from this world. There will be no more spirit stones, for us, or the humans."

Another rumble of distress ran through the assembly. Their plaintive cries took on a slightly frantic edge. _No more stones, nor more magic_. Their supernatural power was as much a part of themselves as their wings or tails, how would they survive without it? The wild chattering continued, blocking out all room to think. Darc raised his hand for silence, but too many had already become lost in pointless hysteria.

"Quiet fools," Volk barked, impatient with their bleating. Part of him wanted to see how Darc would handle them. Preferably, it would enable him to take his frustrations out of a few hopeless Drakyr. He didn't try to keep the feral grin that thought gave him off his face, and the gathered Deimos hastily dropped back into order.

Darc raised his voice once more, "This is a great loss to our kind, but we can't lose sight of everything because of this one drawback. We have other strengths over the humans. We are stronger, faster, we will endure as well as they."

His voice lowered to a conspiratorial hiss, forcing the crowd to lean close to hear. "But there is one advantage the humans have over us," he paused. The crowd leaned closer and he almost smiled. He had them. "Their Unity. The humans have always been a united force. With this latest development, all they have to do is band together once more they will _crush_ us," he swiped his fist for emphasis, causing more than a few people to jump at the sudden movement. Despite himself, Volk found himself being drawn in by Darc's words. His Alpha wore power like a tangible cloak. His every movement spoke of suppressed energy, and that was what spoke loudest to the Deimos.

"If we want to survive this, we too must work together. If we join with other Deimos, we will become too strong for the humans. We must seek out strong allies to join their power with ours if we wish to survive. Are you with me?"

Cheers burst from the crowd. Delma and Volk shared a grin, despite their past differences they felt a particular kind of pride at Darc's achievements, having been with him since the beginning. The enthusiasm he'd inspired from the crowd was electrifying with its certainty.

Darc _would_ be the one to unite the Deimos, they could feel it.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Cathena was gone.

Kharg was stunned, he'd thought after seeing the Divine Ruler in person he might have been able to comprehend the kind of damage the flying castle had been capable of. Apparently not, as he'd expected there to be at least something recognisable left of the once great city.

Cathena had become nothing more than a great crater in the ground, which had since transformed into a lake due to the close proximity to the sea. Water had seeped into the vacant hole the city had occupied, and now formed an almost perfectly circular bay in the place of buildings and streets.

The former prince of Nidellia clenched his fists, vaguely aware of the horrified reactions of the others. There was no way they could help Cathena. There was nothing left to save.

"It's…just gone," Paulette gasped, appalled.

"All those people…" Ganz trailed off, looking closely at the water. Who knew what kind of disfigurement lay under its calm, mirrored surface. Or perhaps the people had simply been incinerated by the blast.

"There's nothing left," Kharg said, angry with himself. He'd made the wrong decision and now they were stranded on Aldrow. The Big Owl had used up the last of its resources getting them here, and they'd been forced to abandon it some distance away and hike the last few miles to town. Without power, the faithful airship wouldn't fly again.

"Wait," Maru's keen eyesight squinted, "Isn't that a boat out there?"

They all looked. The distant imperfection on the otherwise smooth surface of the new lake bobbed gently in the breeze.

"I think you're right," Tatjana inspected it through the scope of her weapon. "Survivors?"

"Or thieves," Ganz growled, un-slinging his axe. "Let's check it out."

They made their way around the water's edge, hoping to find someplace close enough to call out to the small vessel. As they drew near, they could make out one form standing up in the boat, apparently directing a group of divers in the water. Kharg recognised several of them as the merchants that had once displayed their wares near the entrance to the city.

"Ahoy!" he called, and thankfully, the man in the boat looked up.

He waved, "Ahoy yourself!" The man spread his arms wide, a surprisingly cheerful grin on his face considering the circumstances. "Welcome to Lake Cathena."

"What are you doing?"

The man gestured to the divers. "Looking for supplies. We're a bit short," he shouted back, some of his words almost being lost in the wind that was starting to pick up.

"Where's everyone else?" Surely if there people had survived, there were others. He had to strain to pick up what was said next.

"…Down the trail…" the man was pointing again towards a narrow path almost totally veiled by trees. Kharg frowned, wondering if he'd heard right. He wanted to ask again, but the man had already turned back to his work.

Kharg looked at the others and shrugged. "That way, I suppose," he set off at an easy trot, ducking under low branches. The track didn't seem to be in regular use, but much to his surprise it was littered with an unusual trail of junk. Children's toys, broken pots and jewellery, as if somebody had marked the way with a lifetime's worth of possessions. It didn't make any sense until they cleared the last of the forest and emerged onto an open plain.

Crude cloth tents leaned on each other for support, barely large enough to shield the families inside them. People milled about in groups, sharing cooking fires and trying to make the most of the cramped space they had to work with. There were hundreds of them; dirty, tired and crowded, but undoubtedly alive, was entire population of Cathena.

"They must have evacuated the city," Tatjana gaped. "But how?"

"Look," Kharg pointed. Having obviously seen better days, the airship Fiona loomed majestically over the squashed, makeshift village. Sampson's pride and joy also seemed to have lost its power, as it sat solidly on the hard packed earth instead of floating above it, but in was here in Aldrow despite the fact that last time they had seen it it had been a crippled wreckage in the mountains of Halshinne.

"Well it's about time," a familiar voice called. Weaving his way through the throng of people, Buster made his way over to the unusual group who had started to attract stares from the Cathenians. Sporting his usual blue bandanna, he seemed to be in good spirits. "Amazing, isn't it? The whole city, gone in just one blast. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

"How did you get here?" Paulette asked, still reeling from both the destruction of the city and the apparent miracle survival of its people.

Buster grinned jovially, "The Captain gave us a holler on the radio. Said he'd heard Darkham was planning to blow the whole place sky-high, so as soon as we got the old lady fixed up," he gestured to the damaged airship, "We came down here to spread the word. The council didn't seem to believe us, but Lady Savina did. Lead the evacuation herself," he smiled in admiration. "Great woman, she is. Managed to get everyone out before the fireworks started. We've all kind of elected her as our commander. The rest of the council are still blubbering over the loss of the city."

Buster ran his eyes over the group, "But where's the captain? He said he thought he'd run into you guys sooner or later, and that you'd end up here eventually. Isn't he with you?"

There was an uncomfortable silence as no one would meet his eyes. Buster faltered, "He is fine, isn't he? He told us over the radio he was expecting you to show up at any minute."

Kharg's hand strayed briefly to the birthmark on his arm. "I'm afraid he was killed trying to assassinate Emperor Darkham," he told the man, his voice neutral as he tried to keep his own pain at bay. "I'm sorry."

A rainbow of emotion crossed Buster's face, and everyone looked away to allow him time to compose himself. "I guess I should have known," he said finally, his voice gruff. "He never liked to say goodbye, said it was too permanent. I wondered why he said it that time," he looked down, obviously hiding tears. "I'm sorry, I need to go tell Boomer. You should go see Lady Savina." He rushed off to confront his sorrow in private.

Allowing himself a few moments to reign in his own emotions, Kharg lead the way to a much larger tent in the centre of the encampment; it seemed the most obvious place for Savina to be. People warily moved out of their way, attentive to these strangers who had wandered into their makeshift home. News spread quickly through the camp, right to the ears of Savina herself who hastily rushed out to greet them and usher them into her improvised headquarters in the large tent.

"Rumors have been spreading like a wildfire," she told them swiftly. "I'm not sure what to believe at the moment."

"We're here to help," Kharg told her, inclining his head deferentially. She was one of the members of the World Alliance Council –the most capable in Kharg's opinion- and the position afforded her no small amount of respect.

She would have none of it, however. "Stop that. You are the saviors of my homeland and have done more for these people than I could ever do inside the city. She gestured to the table, which surprisingly enough seemed to be the one from the World Alliance council meetings. Someone had apparently taken the trouble to move it here, though the beautiful creation seemed out of place in the midst of the bare furnishings of the tent. As they each took a chair she gracefully folded her hands in front of her. "Now, tell me everything."

With long practice taken from his days training for the defense corps, Kharg described their journey since leaving Cathena as well as he could, with a few small omissions. He neglected to mention the revelations of his birthright as told by Lady Nafia, or his true connection to Darc. He also omitted Tatjana's role in the Dilzweld army, though he guessed the Epistian woman might have already guessed her identity. Her face tightened as he recounted Darkham's destruction of Cathena, and grew even graver at the announcement of the Divine Ruler's resurrection and the events that followed.

"It's hard to believe the Deimos would ever work willingly with us," she said after hearing how, together, the two warring races had defected the Lord of the Black Abyss. She eyed Tatjana, "Though it appears that they weren't the only strange allies you picked up on this journey." Obviously she had figured out who the blonde woman was.

Savina rose to her feet and paced briefly around the tent, "It is a very strange tale you tell."

"You do believe us?" Paulette asked, suddenly worried. During Kharg's retelling, she suddenly realised how implausible their tale sounded. What if Savina didn't believe them?

Epistia's representative smiled slightly, "I don't think you need to worry about that. From what I have seen, none of you have any deception in your hearts. Besides, I have heard enough strange rumors of the black floating castle you describe, and worse besides."

She pursed her lips. "However, the loss of the spirit stones is worrying indeed. I had simply thought all ours were destroyed with the city. I didn't realise the extent of it…" she trailed off, and Kharg suddenly realised how weary she was. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and he wondered if she'd slept at all since evacuating. It made him feel bad for having wanted to leave the conflict behind.

"What can we do?" he asked gently.

She looked up, and abruptly reasserted her commanding aura. "I think you have done more than enough for the moment. We'll never be able to repay you for what you've already accomplished. Tomorrow, there will be a meeting to decide our next course of action. I would be honoured if you would join us then."

Her gaze softened as she took in their weary frames. She couldn't imagine what they had gone through for the sake of the world. "Your journey must have tired you. I shall organise someplace for you to stay for tonight." She directed them out of the tent, and they rose to follow her. "You'll need your strength. Tomorrow will not be easy for any of us."

xXxXxXxXxXx

The Dilzweld Empire was falling apart.

Chaos ruled the streets as the people of the slums rebelled and tried to claw their way to the upper crusts of the city. Some of the soldiers tried valiantly to drive them back, but most had lost heart when no orders had been issued from central command.

A tidal wave of half-truths and misinterpretations had engulfed the capital, and no one was sure what was really going on. All they knew that, whatever it was, they were going to take the opportunity to rebel their oppression while they could.

_Sheep_, he thought, bored. _Just like brainless sheep. Even in their rebellion they were just following one another without thinking for themselves, no one sure of who was leading who, or what the greater cause was._

He had merely stood back and allowed the carnage to unfold around him, not bothering to intervene or contribute. He knew the reason for it all, of course. The emperor was dead, and the chain of command was broken without him. All his supposed advisors - the people with exalted positions that should have been doing something about the pandemonium- were too busy circling the vacant title of Emperor like a pack of vultures, squabbling over who should get it.

That suited him just fine. While they were busy with each other, he would steal the position right out from under their noses. No one would expect it. But first, order must be restored, and at the same time he would gain the trust of the army under his command.

He quickly stalked over too a small knot of soldiers, the few who were still fighting for the empire to restore the peace. He quickly picked out the leader, though he was of lower rank than some of the others, he fought the most fervently and cheered the rest on.

The dark man smiled, he could use this one.

"You there," he called in his most commanding voice, pushing back his cape so his badge of rank could be easily seen. "What's the situation?"

They all looked relieved to have someone from high command with them. "The people of the slums are trying to take back the upper levels of the city," the leader replied, blood dripping from a gash in his cheek. "All our weapons have lost power. They're fighting back with anything they can find." The dark man glanced around. He saw people wielding an astonishing array of improvised weapons, from broken bottles to kitchen knives.

He straightened himself up, "That may be so, but you are all trained with your bayonets and far more disciplined than they." He gave them a hard look, and those of higher rank looked somewhat ashamed. "Gather your units; punish anyone who tries to avoid their duty. I want this little rebellion cleared up within the hour, am I clear?"

"Yes sir," they replied in unison, rushing off to do as they were bid.

He gestured for a few of them to stay. "You," he pointed at their leader, "Your name."

"Halek, sir," he replied, looking slightly stunned that anyone would bother with him.

"Right Halek, lets work on getting these people back to the lower levels. You take that lot over there and I'll get those ones. Together, we'll make them regret breaking the peace."

Halek saluted, "Yes sir." He took a few of the men - their moral restored - and began the messy work of subduing the rebels.

The dark man grinned, knowing he had made a faithful ally this day. Soon, years of planning would fall into place, just as he'd expected. He would be the next emperor, and the world would tremble at the sound of his name for years to come.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The symbolic act of burning the past, and atoning for it still.**

The great hall of Orcoth looked just as Darc remembered it. The Orcon had long since repaired the damage done by the Dilzweld army, and the town had settled back in to its' usual mundane routine.

Williwo looked about with interest, having never left Drakyr territory, let alone the continent of Ragnoth. "So this is where you were all these years," he mused quietly as Darc patiently greeted the Orcon. They were glad he was back, and assured him all had been well since he'd been away. Surprisingly most hadn't realised that the spirit stones were useless, as the few who were fighters tended to rely on their physical skills rather than magic.

Only Gorma seemed really interested in what Darc had been doing, the rest of the tribe being too wrapped up in restoring the town to have noticed the foreboding signs. Darc quickly gave the old Orcon a brief version of events, while the rest of his team stood guard at the door to the great hall, keeping the other Orcon and their petty troubles away.

"I can't believe this," Volk rumbled in disgust as they sent another squabbling Deimos away. "The world almost ended, and what are they worried about? Not the absence of the spirit stones, or what the humans may be planning, but a couple of stolen fish."

"They do seem sort of… unconcerned, don't they?" Camellia said, stealing a quick glance at Delma.

Delma shrugged. "The Orcon have never really been worried about what goes on outside the village. It's in our nature to be…" she tried to think up a pleasant way to express it.

"Self-centred" Volk deadpanned.

"Oblivious," Camellia added in the same tone.

Delma scowled at them, but was saved from having to think of an appropriate response when Darc motioned for them to come over. They stood in a loose circle, including Gorma and Williwo. As the leader of the Orcon, Darc could have taken the impressive chair on the raised podium, but chose not to. Having always been sensitive about his half-human looks, Darc hated to draw any particular attention to himself when it wasn't necessary. That kind of pretension had been Densimo's practice, not his. Instead he chose to stand eye to eye with his newly elected council, though a stranger collection of Deimos hadn't been seen together in one place for a long time.

He briefly introduced Gorma and Williwo, who shared a tentative, wary glance. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"I don't suppose we can convince you to give up this mad quest," Williwo stated. "I don't believe you understand exactly what you're getting yourself in to. You're chance of success is small, even if you dedicated you life to it, and the results aren't likely to last." He searched Darc's eyes and found nothing but steely resolve. The older Drakyr sighed, "I thought not." _An idealist, just like his father_, he thought wryly. Though hopefully, Darc would fare better in his quest than the late Windalf.

"All you need to concern with is taking care of the Drakyr while I'm gone," Darc told him. "But first I need to figure out where to go, and I was hoping you two could help me."

The two older Deimos regarded him silently as he continued, "I don't know enough about other tribes to be able to find them. Is there anything you've heard that could help?"

Gorma scratched his long beard, "It's more difficult that you'd think actually. The Deimos have never had any unified record. I don't even know how many different kinds of us there are. I have heard rumours of a species called the Lakelta residing in a volcano on Epistia, but I'm not sure if that still holds true.

There have also been some evidence of an insect-like tribe on Anenade. Didn't you all go there at some point?" Darc's group shared a guilty, knowing look. They doubted the Coleopt would be happy to see them again anytime soon after they had stolen the Water Stone and killed their queen.

"Then there are the ones you already know about. The Lupine for instance," Williwo said, looking at Volk, "Used to reside mostly in the forests of Halshinne before the humans cut them down and turned it into a dessert. Now their packs have spread across most continents of the world, but with no single leader to approach, you may have to recruit each group individually. As for the Pianta, all I know is that they have a small island to themselves somewhere. I'm sure your friend would be able to tell you more."

Gorma looked deep in thought, "I have some old texts which may be of use. If you give me some more time I could see if they have anything to tell us."

Darc nodded, "Fine. Keep me informed." He turned to Williwo, who had begun to wonder why Darc had called him and a small contingent of the newly returned Drakyr to the continent. "I need you to organise regular patrols along the edge of Deimos territory here on Aldrow."

With care, Darc pulled out a large, well-worn map of the continent that he'd acquired with some trouble in Rueloon. Balancing it on one arm, he showed it to the older Drakyr, who leaned over, concentration scrawled on his features. "We need to keep track of what the humans are up to. If they discover a new power source, the first place it's going to be brought is Cathena. Get people as close to the human settlements as you can, but don't let them be seen and don't try to fight with them. The last thing we need right now is an unnecessary conflict."

"It's strange that before your experience in the floating castle you never considered getting rid of a few humans to be an 'unnecessary' conflict," Williwo murmured, watching for Darc's reaction. The Deimos hybrid said nothing. "Of course there is wisdom in your decision," he continued blandly, "but what of the Drakyr back on Ragnoth? Surely you wouldn't leave them defenceless?"

"I have already given them a similar task, but I doubt the humans of Nidellia will be as much of a threat as those here." After Lady Nafia's confession, she had strictly expressed her wishes that unless deliberately provoked, the humans should leave the Deimos alone. He wasn't sure whether they would actually obey that wish, but he'd somehow gotten the impression that Nafia was respected enough that they would, even in light of her so-called 'crimes'.

"Besides," he continued, "The Orcon would not be able to cover the kind of distances required, nor," he glanced specifically at Delma, "Do I trust them to be able to restrain themselves when confronted with humans."

Delma bristled, but Gorma merely smiled sadly, "I'm afraid you may be right. An unfortunate product of Densimo's days as our leader. It will fade with time."

"Alright, we shall be setting out tomorrow. If there is nothing further you are all free to go until then."

Slowly, the group broke up until only Delma was left. When Darc looked at her expectantly, she simply shrugged. "Everyone's still nervous around me since I tried to kill you," she sounded only slightly apologetic. "What are you going to be doing?"

He scowled, "Something I should have done a long time ago."

xXxXxXxXxXx

It had taken them a few hours to collect enough wood to start the fire. Aldrow may have had a warm climate, but it was also very humid, so dry wood was hard to come by.

Eventually, they had enough to begin a respectable blaze, and piled it all down in the basement of Geedo's now empty house. Respectfully, Delma waited outside while Darc descended into the dungeon one last time to light the fire that would commit his past to the blaze.

He couldn't suppress the gnawing feeling of dread he'd felt almost every day for the last eight years as he came down the stairs. No vandals had ransacked the house, as many still feared Geedo's curses even after her death, so the dungeon was just as he remembered it. The slimy, moss covered floor that had provided little comfort for sleeping, the ancient chains that rattled as they swung from the ceiling.

His own dried blood splashed across the walls.

He shuddered violently, his clawed hand straying to the ever-comforting mark on his arm. At least he'd never have to see this place again. The taint of Geedo's presence would be cleansed once and for all.

With a harsh, jerking movement he struck the flint he held against the stone floor. After a few tries a spark finally jumped across and onto the kindling. After watching for a few seconds to be sure the newborn flame wouldn't die, he left to join Delma outside. Together they sat, watching patiently as the fire ignited the rest of the wood, the spread to the rest of the building. Although it was made of stone, Geedo had used a particular kind of pitch to seal the cracks in the masonry. The highly flammable material had been used on both the inside and outside of the house, and before too long it was a flaming beacon that could be seen for miles.

Even though they sat some distance away, Delma could feel the heat burning her skin. By tomorrow there would be nothing left but scorched ground and charred stone. She highly approved of Darc's decision. The old hag deserved everything she'd got and then some for what she'd done to Darc.

_Funny_, she thought, _only a month or two ago I wouldn't even have cared._

She subtly memorised Darc's profile as he watched his past become reduced to ash. The reflection of the flames in his red eyes and the golden glow it cast on his bronze skin highlighted his demonic heritage. As much as she'd tried to tell herself how strange it was, she'd never actually minded his odd looks. Much to her disgrace she actually found his mixed features quite attractive, and she knew only too well she wasn't the only one.

However, her chance with Darc had come and gone. Perhaps as Geedo's slave he might have been flattered by her attention, but now he was the leader of two Deimos tribes, and what was she? An ally, but not a well trusted one. After all, he had killed her brother and she had tried to kill him. As far as she could see there was no possibility for reconciliation.

That didn't mean, she tried to tell herself, that she couldn't admire him in the guilty recesses of her own mind. That she couldn't take pleasure in having his company all to herself for a little while, as they witnessed the annihilation of Geedo's existance.

_But only for one night_, she swore to herself, _and it can never be any more than this._

xXxXxXxXxXx

Evening had fallen quickly, as though even the daylight had tired of its lonely waltz across the sky. Kharg and his friends had been stationed a short distance from the large camp, thankfully affording them a small measure of privacy. It was warm enough for them to sleep out of doors, and the small fire they had lit was for illumination only.

"Tatjana," Kharg began, breaking the companionable silence, "What will Dilzweld be doing now that Darkham is gone?" Some small part of him had wistfully believed that the once mighty empire would meekly fall back into line and become a peaceful nation once more. Unfortunately, things were never that simple, and the more he thought about it the more the silence from Dilzweld bothered him.

The blonde woman's face was introspective. "I imagine it's probably in chaos. Darkham never named a successor. Never thought he would need to. He was so powerful, I guess we all thought he'd live forever." Her laugh was mirthless. "There are several people in a position to try to take his place, but I doubt any of them have yet. You know how politicians are," she waved her hand back at the camp for emphasis, having heard about their pointless experience with the rest of the World Alliance. "They can't get anything done until they'd debated the pros and cons of everything.

"So we don't have to worry about them?"

"Probably not. It will take a while before a clear successor is named." Despite her words, her face suddenly grew thoughtful, as if she'd just remembered something.

Kharg noticed the change, "What?"

She shook her head, "No, it's probably nothing." Her face indicated that the subject was closed, and the group lapsed once more into silence.

Maru tossed a stick onto the feeble fire, "If it's alright with you Kharg, d'ya mind if I give this meeting a skip? Boring talk just puts me to sleep."

"Sure Maru," Kharg smiled at the boy's predictability. "In fact the rest of you don't have to come either if you don't want to. With the rest of the council, I doubt we'll be getting much done."

"Considering my past with Dilzweld, it might not be appropriate for me to be there," Tatjana said, looking relieved that she'd been given the opportunity to back out.

"Nor I," said Ganz. "Mercenaries are not meant for strategy meetings." 

"I doubt it makes a difference to Savina," Paulette said reasonably, but the large man simply shook his head. "Well I'll go with you Kharg."

He appreciated her support, knowing that the meeting didn't interest her any more than it did Maru. "Thanks."

The peaceful hum of the night was doing wonders for Kharg's troubled mind. It reminded him strongly of that night on Cragh Island after the floating castle had vanished into the ocean, like the quiet after a storm.

Paulette tapped him on the arm, "Hey Kharg, look at that." Lazily, he followed her gaze to a growing pillar of smoke from across the mountains to the east. "Looks like someone's having a bonfire."

He looked at her closely, but saw no hint of humor in her features. Obviously, she hadn't realised what he had. Across the mountains was Deimos territory, Orcon territory to be precise. Hadn't Darc said he was going back there?

It was farfetched, but somehow he felt that his twin was involved in whatever that dark column symbolised. It brought a small grin to his lips, the fancy of his wild imagination. It was probably just a simple bonfire as Paulette suggested. Surely Darc couldn't be a part of everything the Deimos did.

xXxXxXxXxXx

As predicted, the meeting with the rest of the world council accomplished practically nothing. The councillors, having witnessed the unbelievable destruction of Cathena, were only interested in saving their own skins, not uniting the people of the world against the threat. No matter how patiently Savina tried to explain that unity was the only way they could survive this new age, all they could think about was leaving the area in case it happened again.

Kharg was also insulted that they refused, point blank, to believe that the spirit stones were gone. With Savina's advice, they had explained only the basics of their journey; the five stones being brought together, Darkham's destruction of Cathena, and the Spirit's departure from the world.

No mention of the Deimos or the Lord of the Black Abyss was made.

Despite this, Kharg and Paulette were branded as alarmists. Of course the Spirits hadn't left, and the spirit stones had just been misplaced in the destruction of the city. They would be recovered soon enough.

Even showing them Paulette's spirit stone bag, which now contained nothing but blue dust, had not moved them. _A trick_, they had proclaimed, _they are liars and swindlers, taking advantage of us in this time of disaster_. Shortly afterwards, Paulette had stormed out, and despite Savina and Kharg's best efforts, the rest of the session ended in bickering and shouting. At that point, Savina had quickly called for the rest of the meeting to be rescheduled at another time, and still fighting amongst themselves, the pompous crowd had left.

"Well that was an astounding waste of time," Kharg muttered, pacing angrily.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Savina's head rested in her arm tiredly, and upon seeing her Kharg's irritation faded to nothing. "I thought by now they would have recovered, that the destruction would have focused their thoughts on the present. I was wrong."

He patted her arm awkwardly, "It's okay. You did your best." He took a seat beside her. "It looks like if anything needs to be done we should just leave them out of it."

Paulette took this moment to reappear in the doorway, looking shamefaced. "Uh…sorry about that. I probably didn't help things."

Kharg waved her over, rubbing his brow. "It doesn't matter. I don't think it could have gone any better." _Or worse_, he added silently.

"Tatjana said she might have come up with something to help with the energy crisis," the redhead told them brightly and, as intended, the sour ambience faded.

"That's the best thing I've heard all day," Savina said, and Kharg didn't bother to point out it was only mid-morning. That single, frustrating meeting felt like it had lasted for years.

As they made their way to the small camp away from the townsfolk, Kharg briefly caught sight of Maru mock terrorising a bunch of shrieking, laughing children, his fearsome green mask in place. At least someone was having fun.

The mood at their camp, however, was more serious. Tatjana was staring pensively at her pistol, absently rubbing a speck of grime from the barrel. Ganz leaned watchfully near a tree, senses alert for the hushed noises of the forest. It suddenly occurred to Kharg that the large man had rarely left the scientists presence since Darkham's death at the Maluise Tower. He wondered about it briefly before pushing the thought aside. It wasn't his business.

Tatjana looked up as they approached. "I've been doing some thinking," She began, twisting the weapon in her hands. "And I think I have an idea for a new source of energy. You see this," she held up her firearm for inspection. "This looks just like a standard issue Dilzweld laser pistol, but unlike other guns, it doesn't require spirit stones or gunpowder to fire."

She slid it back into its holster, "My predecessor, Darkham's former Science Officer, was responsible for the creation of a new power source before the discovery of the Earth Stone. He came up with an experimental generator that would convert solar energy, that is, the sun's rays, into a boundless power source.

"Of course after the Earth Stone was found it became unnecessary and the research was discontinued, but there are still records of his ideas back in my old laboratory. That's how I made this," she briefly touched the holster in her white coat. "If we could recover those plans, we could replicate his work using a much larger generator, enough to provide the power we need."

"That's great!" Kharg grinned. "Where's your lab?"

"Back in Dilzweld."

His face fell slightly, "Oh."

Tatjana straightened, her shoulders back. "I believe that if I went alone I could recover the plans with minimal fuss. I know all the necessary codes and procedures to get in and out without causing any trouble."

"We should all go…" Kharg started, but the scientist shook her head.

"A large party would draw too much attention. Besides, you would be of more use here."

Savina frowned, "I do not doubt your ability, but is it wise to go by yourself? If your presence is discovered…"

"I will go with her," Ganz spoke up suddenly. His bulk shifted as he pushed away from the tree, his face carefully bland.

"Good idea," Kharg said before Tatjana could protest. "You'll need someone you can rely on if you get into trouble."

She sighed, "Fine."

A crashing sound caught their attention and a moment later Maru burst into the encampment. "What did I miss?" he panted, having only just escaped his new band of admirers. The children of Cathena had evidently adopted him as one of their own, and it had been all he could do to escape from their clutches.

As Paulette filled him in, his youthful features furrowed in concentration. "But how will you get there? None of the airships are working."

Tatjana adjusted her glasses, "There's a town on the north side of Aldrow that still has ships sailing between the continents." She neglected to mention that most of them were smuggling routs. "We should be able to travel to Halshinne from there."

Ganz nodded, "I think I've been there once before. If we leave now, we should make it to the next town before dark."

Kharg noticed for the first time that a small pack of supplied had already been made up. Apparently Tatjana had intended to go, with or without their blessing.

"You're leaving already?" Maru looked disappointed. "Shouldn't you wait a few days to plan it out?"

"The sooner this energy crisis is sorted out, the better. Kharg," she offered him a man's handshake. "We should be back within a fortnight." She allowed her eyes to stray over the group, her features softening slightly. "Stay out of trouble."

With a final tilt of her head, she turned and headed for the main road that would take her away from Cathena. Ganz waved briefly, having no skill with goodbyes, and followed her.

"Is it just me, or did she seem eager to leave?" Savina questioned.

"Homesickness perhaps," said Kharg, knowing the reasons were far more complex than that. "Come on, your people will be missing you."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – The King of the Deimos will be foiled by nothing, least of all indignity. 

Mount Quina had seen better days. The ancient volcano bore a shiny new outer layer, a product of its recent eruption, and even at a distance the heat and ash in the air were unbearable.

"Don't tell me we're actually going in there," Camellia managed, shielding her mouth and nose with one voluminous sleeve.

Darc said nothing as he continued the hard climb up the side of the mountain. The blackened ground was uncomfortably hot underfoot, even through his sandals. By the time they were halfway Volk was panting, from heat rather than exertion, and Camellia looked decidedly wilted. Bebedora seemed unaffected by the temperature, and Delma was used to - as well as dressed for - such conditions.

"Keep going," the Orcon girl urged. "Look, there's an entrance just ahead."

The entrance was the same one that had been used by Dilzweld during their search for the Fire stone. The formerly imposing Stronghold was an impressive waterfall of melted metal, now solidified. The doorway was still open, however, and access to the inside of the Volcano was possible, though Camellia hardly regarded that as a good thing.

As soon as they made it to the entrance, the sage collapsed heavily against a pile of slag, eyes watering from the burning dust in the air. Darc peered into the opening noting that, although the air was much clearer, it was much hotter. The humans' equipment, including the elevators, were useless piles of malformed metal, but there seemed to be some way to climb down.

"Master Darc," the voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see Camellia visibly drooping in the unpleasant heat. "I don't think I can go much further than this. It's unbearable." Volk looked as though he agreed, his thick coat making him all the hotter. He wasn't made for this kind of climate.

Darc made his decision "Then wait for us at the foot of the mountain," he told them both, knowing they wouldn't be of any use to him if they fainted from the heat. Nodding gratefully, they both began the stumbling journey back down the steep slope. He turned to Delma and Bebedora, "Will you both be okay?"

"Pft, weaklings," Delma sniffed as her response.

"I do not feel the heat as they do," Bebedora informed him, which seemed to be her way of saying 'yes'.

Together they made their way inside, keeping an eye out for any instability in the tunnel. Darc peered down the elevator shaft, now without an elevator. The walls had a myriad of cracks and creases, easily climbable by both himself and Delma. He looked at the small monster. "Do you think you could climb down?"

She peered over the edge, uncertain. "If I fell, I would break. I do not think so."

He briefly considered sending her back with Volk and Camellia, but her presence could be invaluable if the Lakelta decided to attack. With a sigh he easily lifted the child-like form onto his back, pulling her small arms around his neck.

"Hold on," he advised her surprised face, before carefully lowering himself over the edge to find a foothold that would hold his weight. After a few tense moments, he did so, and began feeling for a new one with his other foot. Delma, after allowing him to descend a few feet, followed suit. Her claw proved invaluable, allowing her to carve out handholds where there were none to be found. The weapon would need some serious sharpening before the next battle though.

It was hard work, made more unpleasant by the heat, and before long her limbs started to tire. Arching her neck and tightening her grip on the wall, she twisted her head so she could call down to Darc, "Can you see the bottom yet?"

"No," his voice floated back to her, "but there's a ledge we can use to take a break." His voice sounded strained; he was probably having more trouble than her by carrying both Bebedora and the weight of his armour.

As promised, they came shortly to the ledge inside a small alcove in the wall. Darc, his hands around her waist, steadied her as she came in, and she forced away the girlish thrill his presence always elicited from her. Thankfully, Bebedora was too preoccupied to comment as she peered over the edge, an expression of apprehension on her face. This was a new emotion to her, and she was savouring its exotic feel as she would a new taste.

Delma tried to stretch out her cramping muscles in the small space available, "I hope we find another way out. Imagine climbing back up." Darc hummed his agreement, leaning out much as Bebedora was, searching for the bottom of the shaft.

It happened so quickly that Delma later wondered how she had managed to react at all. One moment Darc had been perched carefully on the edge of the alcove, the next filled with an alarming crunch as the ground beneath him suddenly gave way. Before she'd even realised what was going on, her hand had snapped out and grabbed his elbow, and then gravity was pulling them both down.

She yelped in surprise as her body hit the floor, and then swore as it continued to give way. Still clinging furiously to Darc, she tried to scramble back before she had nothing left to support her, while her leaders' weight threatened to pull them both down. She sliced her hand on the jutting rocks as she scrabbled for purchase, laying her body flat as possible to distribute her weight evenly, and eventually the crumbling stopped.

She caught sight of Darc's face, his expressive red eyes bewildered. He'd collided harshly with the wall as he fell, and had been stunned enough not to react, something which had probably saved both their lives. Any movement of his might have unbalanced Delma, sending them both over the edge.

"Don't move," she hissed at him, afraid that any loud noise might start the rockslide again. He nodded almost unnoticeably, suppressing the urge to wince as Delma's sharp nails began to bite into the soft flesh of his human arm, or to wipe at the blood sliding down his temple.

"Bebedora," Delma, growled at the small monster, who had stood frozen as Darc had fallen. "Quit staring and help us."

Bebedora shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other. "What should I do?"

That was a good point, Delma admitted as her arm began to ache. Her own position was precarious, one arm gripping Darc and the other pushing against the ground to stop her being dragged forward. Bebedora wasn't strong or heavy enough to help without being pulled over herself. Looks like she was on her own with this one.

Delma looked back at Darc who, to his credit, was waiting patiently for her instruction. "Can you get a grip on something?" He looked down, examining the wall, before cautiously slipping one sandaled foot into a likely foothold.

The pressure on her arm eased slightly, and she sighed in relief. "Good, now the next o…" Before she'd even finished her sentence there was another terrifying crunch and she felt him sliding from her grip.

"Damnit!" She lunged forwards, catching his wrist before he was gone forever. She felt the bones creak under the pressure of her hold, but ignored it. Her heart rate slowly came back to normal, and she risked a look at Darc. A hint of fear had crept into his eyes, but he didn't lose himself to the feeling.

"Alright, let's try that again," Delma puffed, sounding calmer than she felt. Her arm had begun to shake with effort, but she valiantly held on as he found another hold on the wall. Agonising minutes passed, but eventually she managed to pull him back onto relatively solid ground. Both panting, they collapsed together on what was left of the ledge. They were both shaking, and Bebedora hovered nervously nearby, wishing she'd been able to help.

Finally, Darc sat up, and Delma was suddenly aware of the scratches that marked his skin. Although parts of him were protected by scales, the soft skin of his stomach and shins bore marks from the sharp stones. There was also a raw scrape on the side of his face where he had first collided with the wall, and his arm bore deep tears from her own death-like grip.

The Orcon looked down and saw his blood under her nails, "I'm sorry."

When he just looked at her she added, "I scratched you."

He looked down at his arm, then back at her. She jumped when he just laughed at the absurdity of her comment. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?" he asked, wryly, an ironic smile on his lips. "You could have just dropped me."

It took her a moment to realise that he was referring to her vow to kill him to avenge Densimo's death. Funny, the thought hadn't even occurred to her while he'd been hanging over the edge.

"Yeah well," she crossed her arms, "It wouldn't have been very sporting of me."

He arched one fine brow at her, "Oh? You'd rather sportingly stab me in the back again perhaps?"

She turned away, and he decided to leave her alone, but something between them had changed. "We'll rest for another few minute, but we should leave soon. It's still a long way to the bottom."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"No more," Delma huffed, sitting resolutely on the ground. "If we have to go down one more level you can do it without me. I'm done."

Darc was more than inclined to agree with her as he allowed Bebedora's small frame to slide from his back. The scratches on his skin had already begun to heal -a feat that seemed characteristic of his mixed heritage rather than one race or the other- but they were still quite painful. Climbing down the last three levels had used up most of his endurance, and they had yet to come across another soul, despite their cursory search of each floor.

"Maybe Gorma was wrong and their aren't any Deimos down here," he said, sinking down next to her. Bebedora wandered away, peering down the surrounding tunnels. "Or maybe they were wiped out by the eruption."

She scowled. "I'm going to have a little _talk_ with that old coot when we get back." Her further musings were interrupted as Bebedora trotted back down the corridor.

"There are others coming," she informed them. "Harsh red clouds of hate. They do not want us here."

"Are they Deimos or human?"

"I did not see, but their souls are vengeful."

He could hear their tread echoing down the tunnels, no effort was being made to hide it. He listened carefully, but there was none of the familiar metallic sounds that would announce a human in armour, only the rustle of cloth and the low murmur of angry voices. Straightening his form, he motioned for Delma and Bebedora to follow. If this were the Lakelta, it would be better to meet them head on and avoid all trace of deception.

"Lousy stinking rats in the tunnels," a distinctive voice growled as they got closer. "Think they can invade our territory…stupid…." The voice stopped abruptly as they turned the corner and caught sight of Darc's group.

"Hold," he raised his hand and the war party of Lakelta stopped their march. The lizard-like creature stood easily a head taller than Darc, only marginally taller than the rest of his' troop. The thick, powerfully muscled body was a molten shade of red, and its' tail lashed viscously behind him. They all carried crude weapons that appeared to have been carved from rock rather than wood and metal, obviously designed for the extreme temperatures inside the volcano.

"Humans," one of the Deimos hissed, brandishing an axe.

Another looked doubtful. "They don't look like the humans from before."

"The taller ones has horns."

"And the girl has a tail."

"Quiet fools," the apparent leader snapped. To Darc he said, "State your identities. We have no patience for outsiders in out home."

Darc spread he hands to show he carried to weapon, "We are Deimos like you. We want to speak to your leader."

The Lakelta snorted, but lowered his spear, "Why should we grant such a request? Our King has no time to waste on beings such as yourselves. Our home has suffered much over the past few weeks at the hands of the humans. We have only just succeeded in driving them away."

"Were they driven, or did they just leave?" Delma muttered quietly, and Darc suppressed a grin. He'd suspected much the same thing, as only the immoveable technology of the humans had been left behind, such as the elevators. All the other equipment was gone.

"We have information that could help you," Darc replied, not wanting to play his hand too soon. He'd have to get their attention before they'd be willing to listen to him.

"I highly doubt that."

Darc shrugged, affecting and air of nonchalance, "Very well, but consider this. If you couldn't defeat the humans with the use of you magical powers, how will you fare against them now that your spirit stones are gone?"

By the look on the Lakelta's face, the comment had done its' job. "Of course I'm sure your King has already considered this," he continued easily, turning as if to leave, "So we'll just be on our way…"

"Wait!" The shout came before he'd taken his second step. He looked back at the scowling Lakelta, who obviously didn't appreciate Darc's manipulation. "You know much stranger," he eventually ground out. "We will take you to the King, but I can't guarantee he will listen."

Darc didn't bother to hide his triumphant smirk. "Lead the way."

The Lakelta formed a protective ring around the group, as if afraid they would run off into the narrow tunnels. It was hard to ignore the odd looks they were receiving, particularly Delma who found herself on the receiving end of a few admiring glances. Bebedora's penetrating stare caused them to shift uncomfortably, while Darc's air of confidence made them wary.

Despite that, Delma had known him long enough to realise when he was hiding his true feelings. New people made him uneasy, as they generally responded with the same insults he'd heard all his life.

Deimos wannabe… 

The term had always held an undeniable grain of truth, and his calm exterior was a way of ignoring his own doubts. She felt a sudden surge of that traitorous emotion that wanted to see Darc safe, physically and mentally, and she squashed it back to the darkest corner of her mind. She tried to force herself to think about the Lakelta, whose glances clearly stated their interest, but somehow it didn't please her the way it once would have.

They were led down towards the core of the volcano, and eventually reached an impressively carved archway heavily guarded by more armed Lakelta. A swift, whispered argument between the guards and their escorts ensued, and though Delma strained her hearing to its' limits, she couldn't catch any of it.

Finally, the leader of the scouting party turned back to them, "I alone will escort you from here. You have been granted access to the city, but be warned that any misconduct on your part will have you thrown into the lava. Clear?"

"Perfectly," Darc replied, giving Delma a stern glance. She widened her eyes innocently, but had to fight to keep a feral grin off her face.

The passageway from the arch continued a short distance before opening up into an enormous, dome-like cavern that encompassed the whole city. Judging from the height of the ceiling, they were much further underground than Darc had first guessed, but even the awe-inspiring size of the place could not dispel the sombre feeling in the air.

The city of the Lakelta was solemn place, almost totally devoid of life. Buildings, carved from the same black stone as the rest of the mountain, looked empty and lifeless. Their arrival earned only a few inquisitive glances from the small number of Deimos in sight, before they hurried away as if called on an urgent errand.

"We've lost many of out kind to the humans," their guide said, a hint of sorrow in his voice as he noticed their inquisitive glances. "Our King lost his three sons to them, so do not be judgemental of his behaviour."

Before Darc could ask what he meant, they came upon a dark stone building, unusual because of the unexpected flood of noise bursting from its door. It sounded like some kind of party was taking place inside, and seemed out of place in the grave atmosphere of the town.

Inside, Darc quickly guessed the nature of the place and the cause of the festivity. Bars were not common among the Deimos, not only because they lacked the resources to make large amounts of alcohol, but also because many of them were intolerant to the human's drug of choice. Humans had spent centuries exposing themselves to it, and their whole species seemed to have developed some kind of natural resistance. The Deimos, who had been on the earth for a much shorter period, were affected far more quickly and seriously. In small amounts, it was fine, though Darc had never seen the allure of dulling your wits and making yourself sick for the sake of a few hours of false happiness.

The Lakelta seemed to disagree, however, and most of them were treating it as a test of fortitude, trying to out drink their opponents without sinking into oblivion. The smell was overpowering. Darc wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"So many confusing emotions," Bebedora moaned, wobbling as if she herself were drunk. "Loss, anger, happiness, hope… their souls spin like a whirlwind. Racing…churning…"

In a rare act of compassion, Delma supported the child-like monster as she lost herself in the swirls of colour only she could see. "Maybe she should wait outside."

Darc nodded, "Take her." He trusted the She-Orc to take care of it, and hoped he wouldn't need her presence before she got back.

Their guide had paused patiently, looking mildly concerned by Bebedora's behaviour, but at Darc's nod he lead the Deimos hybrid to the back of the bar where a large group of Lakelta had gathered around another competition. This one seemed more important than the others, judging by the crowd it was drawing, and he had to struggle to see over the taller Lakelta to observe the competitors.

The one seated closest to him looked like nothing out of the ordinary, but his opponent looked to be half again his height. The massive being wore a sparse decoration of precious metals, and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the match. The eyes of both challengers were over bright, and Darc vaguely wondered what they were drinking.

"That's our King," his escort told him what he'd already guessed. The Lakelta shook his head, as if regretful of a terrible waste. "He's been here ever since his sons died, drinking away the pain. From the looks of it, this is his third match for the night."

The number of cups surrounding the giant attested to this fact. He seemed to be having no trouble keeping up with his opponent, and seemed to be remarkably alert despite the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed. In contrast, the other Lakelta was visibly shaking, to the extent that most of his next drink went over the table. This seemed to be some kind of sign, as the spectators crowded closer.

"You're done," the giant bawled, knocking back another shot as if it were water. "This round goes to me again."

"Rubbish," the Lakelta replied, only a slight slur in his voice. He used both hands to steady his glass as he brought it to his mouth. "I feel completely so-" he slid sideways, glass and all, and collapsed onto the floor, completely unconscious.

A rousing cheer burst from the spectators, and Darc stared at the fallen Deimos with surprise. He hadn't seemed _that_ drunk…

He felt the guide's tap on his arm, "Now's your chance, before the next round."

Together, they pushed their way to the front of the crowd who had started to thin now that the competition was over. The challenger had been dragged aside by his fellows, and the giant was cheerfully boasting his win to a much smaller Lakelta by his side.

"See Merlon? No one here is a match for my stamina. It's almost getting boring."

"Then perhaps you will soon be ready to return to matters of the tribe? A few problems have arisen…"

"Nonsense," he giant didn't seem to notice the urgency in the other's voice. "We still have much to celebrate, and I feel ready for another challenge." He finally noticed Darc and his escort. "Captain? I thought you and your men were still patrolling for humans. And who is this?" He squinted, as though he were having trouble seeing.

"Lord Bludo, I found this stranger and his companions walking around in the tunnels. He says he needs to speak with you."

The giant waved his hand unconcernedly, ignoring Darc now that he had been evaluated as unthreatening. "Tell him to come back later. I'm not finished here."

"How long should I tell him to wait?"

"A few days perhaps. I have no wish to deal with outsiders at present."

Darc scowled, affronted by Bludo's dismissal. "Look, I have important business to discuss with you-"

"-And I am not interested at the moment. I'm waiting for someone who can match my strength and _you_ are interrupting my search."

Darc had a sudden suspicion about what he'd have to do to get heard by this boorish Lakelta. "So when you find this person you'll leave?"

The Captain and Bludo's companion regarded him with surprise, but their Leader's interest had been caught. "Yes. Why, do you seek to challenge me?" He laughed, "Surely you cannot be serious. I have downed others twice your size."

In response, Darc simply sat at the table, his eyes speaking a silent challenge that bordered on insult. Bludo's demeanour immediately changed from amused to serious. "Very well. I accept."

"Darc are you crazy?" Delma suddenly reappeared at his side, having taken Bebedora outside and away from the noisy patrons. "I don't think even your-" she paused, then corrected herself, "That even you can take more than a couple of shots of this stuff."

"Don't worry," he muttered back, sounding more confident than he felt. Truthfully, he'd never even tried alcohol, but he hoped that his human heritage would afford him some kind of advantage. That, and the fact that Bludo already had a fair amount of the stuff in his system, thus giving him a head start.

The first drinks were poured, and Delma was unhappily forced to stand back and allow Darc to finish what he had started. Bludo smirked confidently as he lifted the dark liquid to his lips. "I hope you don't mind that we'll be using my special recipe for the contest. I find it adds a certain… zest to the experience."

Darc raised his own glass and almost coughed as the heady small of Phoenix blood reached his nose. The substance had been Geedo's favourite drink, and had given the old hag a lift when her age caught up with her. At least it explained how the Lakelta had sounded so normal before collapsing.

Gathering his resolve, he downed the foul concoction in one gulp, trying not to taste it. Immediately he felt warmth creeping into his limbs, adding to the heat already present from the volcano. Judging from Bludo's still present grin, he'd obviously known about the reaction, and Darc forced himself not to shift uncomfortably.

By the time the seventh round had been poured, Bludo was no longer smiling, as Darc matched him drink for drink with no obvious effect. Usually by this stage the telltale shudders would overtake his opponents, indicating that their bodies would soon give into the stress. How could this puny excuse for a Deimos was doing better than his strongest warriors?

Delma watched unobtrusively nearby, grinning at the growing frustration on Bludo's face. In spite of her doubts, it looked as though Darc might actually pull this off, though she would bet that by tomorrow morning he wouldn't be celebrating it. Their match was drawing back the crowd, and she carefully kept an eye out for anyone who might threaten her friend.

She also tried to ignore the stares she was drawing from the other patrons. Those still on the right side of sober had the wisdom to be discreet about it, but more than a few were staring openly and her tolerance for such behaviour was wearing thin. It occurred suddenly to her that all the Lakelta present in the bar were male. In fact, even out in the city there hadn't been any sign of a female Lakelta anywhere. She wondered if it was significant or not before returning her attention to Darc.

"Damn," Bludo snarled, his hands beginning to tremble ever so slightly. "I don't believe this! I won't be beaten by a lightweight like you." He swallowed another shot, slamming the glass down with more force than necessary.

Darc said nothing, merely letting a small smirk creep onto his lips as he too finished another shot. He was beginning to realise that keeping a tight control over his emotions slowed the effect of the drink. He'd felt the first effects of it after his eight shot, and through sheer force of will he'd managed to repress the trembling. He managed to look as unruffled as he was before the match had started, and he could see Bludo was getting desperate.

The Lakelta's eyes seemed to almost glow with fervour, as he forced down one more. The crowd, sensing the end, drew close, a hush falling over them. It looked like their champion was about to take a fall.

"Don't think you've got me fooled. You're as close to your limit as I am. I will still win this." To Darc's mind, Bludo seemed to be taking this far more seriously than required. He wondered if the giant had snapped after the death of his sons.

"For someone whose winning, you sure talk a lot," he replied evenly watching dark rage bloom on his opponents' face.

"Pathetic upstart," Bludo snarled, but Darc was far too acclimatised to insults to be affected. "Your nothing more than a brazen child, I'll-" Whatever he'd been about to say was lost as his face froze in an almost comedic manner. Without another sound, he slid sideways and hit the floor with an audible '_thump_'.

There was silence, the applause burst from the crowd and Darc was given several companionable slaps on the back in congratulations. He could barely feel them, however, and he wondered if that was a bad thing. The most enthusiastic praise came from the one called Merlon, who seemed surprisingly thrilled that his King had just lost.

"Perhaps now he's been beaten he'll give up this stupid pursuit of proving he'd the strongest," the smallish Lakelta confided, urging the rest of the spectators away from Darc. "Without his leadership, the city's been falling apart."

"That may be, but he wont be of any use to talk to now," Darc managed, trying to gather his thoughts which were scattering in all directions.

"Bah, he should be fine by tomorrow. Besides, he's not really the one you need to be talking to anyway."

"Oh?" To his own ears, his voice sounded distant. He tried to give his body the command to stand up, but it didn't seem to be listening.

Merlon continued, oblivious. "No. Bludo takes care of running the city, but the bigger decisions are made by our Queen. Bludo can take you to her tomorrow, when he wakes up."

"Alright," his body finally took the hint and stood up, only to topple forward as he struggled for balance. He would have fallen completely if Delma hadn't caught him, an amused grin on her face. "Overdid it, huh?"

Darc snorted in reply, but leaned heavily on her, unable to support his own weight.

Merlon smiled shrewdly, "In thanks, may I offer you the hospitality of our inn for the night? Free of charge of course. Your friend looks like he needs it."

Delma hesitated, looking at Darc, but the half-breed was loosing his battle with consciousness and was unlikely to be any help. "Sure, but we have some friends outside the volcano. Is there any way we could send a message to them?"

He led her outside, where they were rejoined by a distressed Bebedora. "What's the matter with Darc? His colours are faded," she asked fretfully.

"He's just wasted," Delma sounded unsympathetic. After all, Darc had insisted on joining the stupid contest in the first place; it was his own damn fault.

"Wa-sted," Bebedora repeated, looking confused. Delma decided not to enlighten her on what it meant.

Merlon called over the Lakelta who had escorted them into the city, who'd obviously hung around to see how the contest would unfold. He seemed slightly exasperated by the whole ordeal, but listened as Merlon relayed Delma's request for a message.

"I'll do it, but it would be easier to find your friends if I had a guide. I'd rather not spend the night searching the mountainside."

Delma looked from Darc to Bebedora. There was no way the Deimos Hybrid would be getting far in his current state, nor did Bebedora have a hope in hell of carrying him. "Go with him," she ordered the small monster. "Tell Camellia and Volk we'll be back some time tomorrow." Bebedora looked unhappy, not wanting to leave Darc, but did as she was told.

Merlon nodded at her, "If you excuse me I must go make sure our King is duly scooped off the floor. The inn is down the next street, first door on the left. We have no other visitors here at the moment so no one is running it. Just take any rooms you like." He pointed her in the right direction before ducking back into the pub.

She sighed, her muscles still weary from climbing down the volcano protested Darc's added weight. "Come on then," she told her almost unconscious burden, half dragging half carrying him to where Merlon had directed. The inn was a relatively plain building, indistinguishable except for a crumbling sign hanging above the door. There was no one inside, as Merlon had said, so she simply headed for the closest room, manipulating the handle of the door with her elbow while struggling to hold Darc up.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," she stated, knowing that he didn't hear a word she said. It somehow made it easier to control the fluttery beat of her pulse created by holding him so close.

The room was nicer than she'd expected; human-styled bed raised off the floor and cushioned by a soft mattress was an unexpected luxury. It was sparsely decorated, but that wasn't unusual as Deimos rarely wasted their time on such meaningless frivolities. It was only a single room, meaning she'd have to take a separate one, but she figured Darc would be all right on his own. With one hand she undid the ties of his armour, having studied it enough - for a variety of reasons - to figure out where the hinges were. Pulling it off, her eyes fell briefly on the scars that were normally hidden from sight, before she placed the breastplate on a low table, along with his sword. She heaved his limp form over to the bed, and with one of his arms over her shoulders and both of her supporting his body she managed to lift him onto it with minimal fuss.

"Goodnight," she said softly, allowing herself the odd sentimentality. She made to pull away, but Darc's arm, still flung over her shoulders, took that moment to tighten unconsciously around her. With a short 'erp' she was pulled forward, her nose pressed against his collarbone and her body flush again his.

For a full minute her brain just shut down, and all it could do was gibber incoherently. That was followed by a magnificent blush that coloured her already pink cheeks a dark rose. Her situation wasn't improved at all by her traitorous mind, one half of which was celebrating this development while the more sensible half told her that if Darc woke up she was going to be very, _very_ dead.

"Uh, Darc," she whispered, not quite sure if she wanted him to wake or not. Experimentally, she tried to pull back but his grip was unbreakable. Rousing him might make him let go, but she didn't know whether it was possible, or even if she wanted to. It wasn't all that bad…

_Don't be an idiot_, her sensible half raged. _If he wakes up and finds you here what will he think of you? That you took advantage of him while he was out of it, which you are!_

_He's the one who isn't letting go!_ She protested.

_You aren't exactly resisting though, are you?_ Her sensible self had a point. Darc's body fit comfortably against hers, not too warm as to make it uncomfortable in the heat already present inside the volcano, and she was kinda tired. She could almost pretend that he was seeking her out of his own free will, not just unconscious stupor.

But she couldn't lie to herself like that; it was unfair to both of them. Gathering her resolve, she tried to pull away again, but once more he resisted, bringing his other had to rest ever so lightly on her waist. She was about to continue her efforts anyway, but a whisper-soft breath blew across her hear, so quietly she thought she hadn't heard it. "…don't leave."

She paused, not sure if her mind was just tricking her into hearing what she wanted to, but this gave him ample opportunity to tighten his hold on her, and this time she knew she wouldn't be able to break it.

_You're a soft, sentimental fool_, her more reasonable side hissed. _This squishy feeling of yours is getting out of hand-_

_Quiet_, she told it, now sure she wasn't hearing things. Surprisingly, the conflicting voice subsided, seeming to have lost its fury with Darc's quiet plea.

If Darc wanted her to stay, she would do it.


End file.
